Lost Lad (21 page)

Entering, they were enveloped by a musty smell, something between sweaty socks, ash-trays and damp beer-stained carpet.  Dark pre-war tatty wallpaper was the backdrop to a mangy old sofa, pressed down by a pile of human blubber, which comprised the ample, odious, unclean person of Toby Piggs.  Simultaneously, both visitors saw how he came to be called Guzzly Granddad.  Attention was drawn, at once, to a slimy, toothless orifice surrounded by grey stubble.  Oozing slobber, this repulsive, glistening cavity was loosely contained by uncouth crooked lips.  The sight of the two hunky men touched off a Pavlovian conditioned reflex.  A salacious tongue stealthily, very stealthily crept up from the blackness of the thick throat and, slowly, lasciviously, moved side to side making the lower lip viscous in an unspoken, lewd invitation.

            It was the one word 'police' which immediately shut down all these wanton succulent secretions and closed the old man's mouth into an expression of alarm and dismay.  His voice was coarse, deep and guttural - 

           
"Huh!  Ave not done oat
[anything],
av a?"

The total impression was of a mess.  Unshaven, he reposed in a once white, collarless, soup-stained shirt.  His braces were hauling up, at near nipple level, ancient baggy grubby trousers.  At his feet, a growing pile of orange peel and nut shells, by his side, the remains of supper - greasy chip papers.  Partly under the sofa, John noticed the edge of a dinner plate with even older food.

It was explained to Mr Piggs that a teenage boy was missing and they had reason to believe that he may be able to assist their enquiries. 

           
"It's that ugly owd 'ag at Belper in tit?  Aye's sent ya ant 'e?  Huh."

Once more Derek and John were entertained by a string of bitter and biting recriminations concerning Jasper Wormall.  Petty jealousies, rivalries and spiteful comments about the abuse of public toilets were delivered, this time, slower and in a lower register.  Defensive denials flowed a-plenty, on the incorrect assumption that Wormall had made numerous allegations and the tone gave the impression of one time colleagues rather than one time friends.

           
"Ays allus in t' bogs, ay stinks like a bog, ay used ta empty bogs when 'e were a lad."

Further questions followed.  Yes, like most folk in Derby he often visited the Arboretum.  No, he was not interested in boys and never spoke to them.  Unnecessarily, he added that he was not in the habit of sitting in a public lavatory all day long nibbling cracker biscuits like a certain -

           
" ... evil lyin' owd cow in Belper ... 'oo'll be gettin' me fist down 'is bloody throat ..."

           
"Visitors, Mr Piggs!  One in particular: one in a green car."

           
"That'll be little Dolly.  'E's all right.  A decent sort."

He was happy to talk about Dolly who came about three or four times a week.  Sometimes he would bring a friend,
"an
adult
friend"
he added significantly.  According to Mr Piggs nobody knew Dolly's real name, where he lived or where he worked.  John considered this was an attempt to protect a friend, but, put with other information about Coggan, Derek felt it was consistent with the gardener's secretive character.  

           
"Simon Tonks."

           
"What about 'im?"
  said Guzzly Granddad.

           
"Do you know him?"

           
"Everybody knows Simon, but not everybody wants ta be seen we 'im.  'E won't come 'ere agen."

           
"Why not?"

           
"Camp as bloody Christmas!  Huh.  Ya cana tek 'im anywhere.  Ya couldn't walk down t' street we 'im ... "

His flow was abruptly halted by a firm knock at the door.  Two more policemen had arrived to make a search to which, reluctantly, Mr Piggs agreed.  With such a small property, it did not take long.  The hard trodden earth of the tiny back garden had clearly not been disturbed in years.  As expected, pornography was discovered, old fashioned and dog-eared.  Most of the photographs could have been classified as 'soft core' featuring adult women, but it did cross Derek's mind that such pictures may have been used to intrigue young men.    

When they were outside on the pavement, a very silly and very amusing thought popped into the mind of Detective Inspector Derek Russell.  It was so silly that he would never have shared it with his junior colleague.  So impressed with the extraordinary contrasts between the two hideous men they had just interviewed - he imagined them attired as Romeo and Juliet!  The lugubrious, lusting, deep throated Guzzly Granddad cast as Romeo looking ridiculous and repulsive in tights -

           
"But soft!  Huh.  What light through yonder window breaks?  It is the east and Jasper is the sun!"
  Answered by the high pitched, head nodding co-star, an ugly crone in medieval costume -

           
"O Guzzly Granddad, Guzzly Granddad, wherefore art thou Guzzly Granddad?  O be some other name.  Meh!"

This frivolous absurdity was, in truth, a masking device to hide the fact of meeting up with yet another dead end.  True, Adolphus Coggan still needed to be interviewed, but Derek had a bad feeling and said as much to his colleague -

           
"Nay, sir.  Surely not!  It's not like you to be despondent so soon.  We're only into the second day ... what ... 56 hours.  Anything could turn up."

           
"I hope you're right, John.  Just can't see these fools as kidnappers.  It's beginning to feel wrong.  Perhaps this sleazy sexual lead is a red herring ... they don't seem sophisticated enough."

           
"Hardman is."

           
"Yes, Hardman ... I wonder ..."

           
"And then again, sir, our Brian could easily be walking around somewhere with no memory - it's only a matter of time now.  We've got lots of publicity in Manchester, Sheffield, Nottingham and Derby ... we'll find him, sir, just you see."

Chapter 19

Dolly, Dolly, Deep, Dark and Devious

At 9.00am the next day, Tuesday, July 26th, under cheerless skies which were still cloudy, Russell and Winter were knocking on the door of Cressbrook Hall Lodge.  Adolphus Coggan seemed pleased to see them and, in a soft sighing voice, bade them enter into a comfortable old fashioned living room; a cosy oasis in which there seemed to be all the time in the world.  Part of the calming atmosphere came from the slow careful tick of a round clock on the mantelpiece: indeed, the reoccurring theme of that room was roundness.  A plump curved settee with matching armchairs and globular pouf set the tone.  In a half circle bay window reposed a round heavy Victorian dining table.  In the centre of the table, a large bulbous pot was home to an ancient dusty aspidistra plant. 

            Two police officers sank deep into the soft upholstery of the two seated sofa.  The opposite armchair became pregnant when it was filled with the podgy flesh of their host who, at the same time, threw out an odour of expensive cologne into the stagnant air.  In an un-hurried measured manner and with exaggerated movements of the lips, fat full lips, he articulated beautifully formed round vowels -

           
"Now gentlemen, how can I help you today?"

Eyes like saucers set into that soft chubby face intrigued and mesmerised the two visitors.  Tilting his spherical head very slightly to the left, Dolly became more than just quizzical, he became slightly patronising and yes, a touch condescending as if he were addressing two little boys.

            Derek asked about his movements during the previous Sunday and received the same answers which had been given to his subordinates.  The gardener went out driving in his motorcar sometime at about 11.30am and was out until past 11.00pm.  Detective Sergeant John Winter jumped in with -

           
"Where did you go, Mr Coggan?"

With large twinkling orbicular eyes, he replied, slowly, in a thinly veiled sardonic purr -

           
"Do you know, Detective Sergeant, I'm really not at all sure ... "

           
"That won't do, Mr Coggan,"
  snapped Derek who was now getting irritated. 
"This is a serious matter.  I suggest you consider your
position and give us some hard facts.  Where did you go and who were you with?"

Unfazed, the fat man started to examine his long finger nails in a casual manner.  John had noticed these podgy, delicate, little hands, clean white hands which appeared to have done precious little gardening.

           
"You see, Detective Inspector,"
  he said with a half smile in deep, rich, silky tones, 
"I'm in a rather delicate position."

           
"We're in full agreement there, Mr Coggan!  Please continue."

           
"How shall I put it?  I was rendering a service to people ... well somewhat unusual people who are very nervous at the mention of the word 'police'."

           
"Body massage, Mr Coggan?" 
inquired John somewhat facetiously.

           
"Oh no!"
the other responded persuasively in mock shock with an engaging full smile. 
"No no no.  Nothing at all like that.  You've quite shocked my delicate sensitivities, Detective Sergeant - suggesting that innocent little Dolly here could be so naughty!"

Having softened his audience to the point where they were now amused with this little comedy, Adolphus Coggan wisely decided to reveal the secret of how a poor gardener (poor in both respects) could comfortably afford to drive a car 20,000 miles a year. 

            It came to light that some years before, young Adolph had indeed - 'considered his position'.  Whilst appreciating the beauties of the countryside, he had accidentally come across the delights and excitement of the city - particularly the City of Manchester.  Certain pubs which catered for certain interesting minorities fascinated the little rotundity -

           
"Have you ever visited The Union?  Or, perhaps 'The Rembrandt'?

These establishments, rich in local colour, hosted regional comedians, 'drag shows' and various other bawdy entertainments.  In his travels around the Peak District, being a chatty friendly character, Dolly met many shy people who warmed to his tranquil and velvety personality.  Some expressed a desire to do these 'pub crawls' and have a chance to rub shoulders with interesting quirky types - but lacked the courage.  Bizarre venues were often hidden in the back alleyways, nooks and crannies of sleazy neighbourhoods.  Dolly knew where all the 'action' was to be found and occasionally proposed himself as an escort to those of a ... 'timid disposition' who were keen to taste the fruits of the wicked city.  As time passed, it was a natural progression from offering the hand of companionship - to holding out a hand for money. 

            Dolly began to charge.  The fee would cover his time and the cost of his entertaining personality, endless jokes - everybody loved Dolly.  People were prepared to pay for his specialised knowledge of the metropolis which extended to guided tours of Derby, Nottingham, Birmingham, Sheffield and even London.  Like the clients of Jasper, 'the friends of Dolly' came to expect anonymity and total discretion.

           
"And I have to be very careful."

           
"What do you mean?"
asked John.

           
"Well, Detective Sergeant,"
he responded lyrically, tongue firmly in cheek.
  "Some types take advantage of a good-looking young innocent like me!  Only last week this man, oo such a big man, deliberately put his leg dangerously close to my gear stick.  I was appalled!  And do you know, Detective Sergeant, that just ten minutes later, parked up, I had to bang on the window with a sponge to attract attention!"

           
"Quite so," 
murmured Derek.
  "But I'd like to know more about your special tours."  

           
"Well now, let me see?  'Victorian Lavatories' is in vogue at the present time."